Heat Tolerance

Am I nearly housebroken, at last? Seems hard to believe. I and many of my supporters didnae even believe that possible. For most of my feral life, I have tolerated tropical heat far more easily than I have tolerated the heavily conditioned air of the Great Indoors. That epic heat tolerance verily disappeared, virtually overnight, in the hot flashes of menopause, but my respect for the Great Indoors wasnae so quick to fill the void. My first OCD drive was to escape the sub-tropics. Escape I did, for periods here and there, but. . . The call of family is potent among mammals, even in the wild.

The heat tolerance of my youth and middle-age havenae magically reappeared. As I continue stalling in the fearsome August heat of the Southern Great Plains, I find myself retreating to burrow near one of the window AC units in the dilapidated ranch house earlier and earlier in the day. I even find myself enjoying it. Me? Enjoying conditioned air? How did that happen?